The Lady of the Lake
by Dark SpellMaster
Summary: Severus Snape is about to come face to face with his past in a way he didn't think possible. When he leads Draco Malfoy to the Source that Dumbledore has been using, he's suddenly forced to meet a woman he long thought dead. SeverusFlorence HBP info


**The Lady of the ****Lake******

****

**Copyright: **_Harry Potter and all Characters here in are owned by JK Rowling and Bloomsberry Publishing, and Scolastic. This fanfiction is written strictly for entertainment and by no means is it meant to make a profit. _

**AN: **Any characters that are clearly not Mrs. Rowling's are of my own creation. I am very grateful for her inspirational books which have allowed me to construct this tale.

_Chapter 1: The Visitor_

Hogsmeade –Two weeks before the start of term.

The express to Hogsmeade meandered its way through the coastal cliffs of England as it chugged along on its lonely late night excursion. Passengers, waiting to get home from London and the surrounding area, nestled in their compartments on the warm benches. Unlike the Hogwarts express, the express to Hogsmeade did make a few stops along the way at smaller stations where witches and wizards could get off. Most stayed on though, living in the small town that bordered the famous school of witchcraft and wizardry.

In compartment 12 a woman sat dressed in simple dark blue robes. Her deep brown hair was set in a loose braid, and her bangs woefully kept flicking into her face, even as she brushed them aside to get a look at the various newspapers she read. Her blue eyes bore into the print as if reading some hidden message, and she constantly would say random words, phrases, and sentences to a quick quotes quill, which took down word for word what she read.

She had a pleasant enough, heart shaped face with a lean nose, and a mid sized mouth that seemed to stay in a perpetual line, neither smiling nor frowning. It looked, to the man that had been riding with her since he had embarked, that she was in constant deep thought. The few times he had tried to start a conversation, she had been pleasant, but something in the way she had looked at him had startled him so that he had stopped attempting to speak to her. It appeared, to him, that if he intended to try to speak with her once again, he would need to have said something far more interesting then, "Have you heard of the latest flavor of Bertie Botts new beans? I hear that he's actually considering removing earwax for something a little less… disgusting. Like Tar."

The man had laughed, but the woman just inclined her head, "Imagine that." She looked back down at the page she was reading and stated, "As far as police are concerned it's a locked room mystery.'"

"What is?" the man asked and the woman looked up.

"The murder of Amelia Bones, head of the magical law enforcement." She gestured to the _Daily Profit_ she was holding.

"Ah, yes, heard about that, tragic case," he said trying not to shift under her intense gaze. "Worlds gone to hell, hasn't it."

She nodded and picked up another muggle newspaper, this time _The Wall Street Journal_. The man sat with a forced smile for some time, not realizing that that was all he was going to get out of her for a conversation. Coincidently he left after five minutes, announcing loudly that he was going, even though he and the woman were the only two in the compartment. The woman hardly heard the door shut as he left.

At around ten in the evening the train pulled up to Hogsmeade station and the woman disembarked carrying her papers and a small case with her. She gazed around looking for something and soon found it in the form of a carriage pulled by invisible horses. She quietly mounted once the rest of the passengers had departed, and sat in the cushy compartment, her nose once more pressed to the newspaper she was reading.

As the carriage neared the castle she looked up to see two owls flying out, clearly in route to some other location. The woman sighed. _Busy as always aren't you, Albus._

Dismounting she found herself facing a rather repugnant old man with whom she had hoped to avoid contact. He sneered at her with contempt and she simply returned the look with one of her cool distant stares.

"So where are yer bags?" he asked her and the woman held up a single small carpet bag, "That all you're bringing?"

"That's all I _need_," she told him swiftly. "Mr. Filch, may I pass? I have urgent business with Professor Dumbledore and…"

Filch snorted, "You always were the conceited type weren't you Valord?" –He motioned her to follow –"Well come on."

The woman gave a soft huff and followed him up the stone steps, through the doors and past the great hall. Staircases shifted around them, and the silence of the school was deafening. The castle seemed cold and dead, except for the soft whispers the ghosts made as they quickly flitted past them. A sudden gust of air startled her and the woman turned to see a well dressed gentleman of the 15th century floating near by. He peered at her, and then doffed his head bowing.

"Florence, it's so nice to see you again! It's been years since the last time we met. You've certainly grown taller," said the ghost who had a long cut across his neck. "I do hope that you'll be here to stay a longer while then your last visit, it does get rather dull when the students aren't here, and Peeves makes such a racket."

Filch snorted, "One of these days I will get that damn poltergeist. He'll not be so merry after I deal with him. Mark my words…"

Florence nodded, "Of course, Mr. Filch."

She raised an eyebrow knowing that he'd been saying such things since the time that she was a student, and probably before then too. Filch cast her a dirty look as she continued with the ghost, "Sir Nicolas, I assume that things have been going well here for the ghosts?"

"Indeed not," he shook his head slightly, trying to keep it in place as it swished back and forth on the thread thin line that kept it from escaping his neck. Florence frowned some looking at him curiously.

"Oh and why is that?"

"There are rumors about of dark shadows that have been caused by the Dementors. These shadows found ways to cause even us ghosts to feel their cold clammy touch. Though I must admit, being already dead, I don't quite see the point of them trying to suck away any joy we might have left, since, clearly, well we don't have much of any do we?"

Florence nodded as the stairs stopped moving and she stepped off with Filch. Waving to Nearly Headless Nick, and assuring him that she would stop by to speak with him and the other dead members of Hogwarts, she followed the caretaker down various halls until they came to a lone gargoyle that stood in stately silence.

Filch snorted a word and the gargoyle leapt aside, allowing them entrance through the door that lead to the staircase that took them up to the other door that lead to the office, where she was sure Dumbledore was waiting for her, which he was. The elderly wizard with his wise blue eyes and long white beard looked up at the strange duo that had entered. Tall and elegant, Florence, and short, soured Filch. He smiled at them.

"Here she is Dumbledore, she said that's all she brought," Filch motioned to the lone carpet bag, and Dumbledore nodded.

"Thank you, Mr. Filch," he waved the other man off gently, and the caretaker gave Florence one last look of distrust before he left. Once gone, the woman chuckled some.

"He certainly hasn't changed at all," she walked over and embraced her old friend. Her familiarity showing through with her fondness of the older wizard, who returned her gentle hug, and motioned for her to take a seat.

"Indeed, he has not." Dumbledore said and looked at her seriously as he sat across from her before his desk. "Florence, you do understand why I have asked you here?"

She nodded, and pulled out a notebook and withdrew various clippings regarding the death of Igor Karkaroff, including those in the Muggle newspapers. She sighed some as she laid out the various details regarding the deaths of Emmaline Vance and Amelia Bones, and some other smaller muggle deaths which seemed to have the distinct feeling of a Death Eater's attack.

"This is all that I have on recent developments, Professor. I'm so sorry, I was sure that I was on his trail when he slipped from me in Albania. When they found Bertha's body…I was too late and the Triwizard Tournament was in full play," Florence said softly and bit her lip. She'd failed him, the man that she looked up to as loving uncle that much she was certain of. "I've gone over every clue that I can gather. There are at the very least 15 loyal Death Eaters that I was able to identify and managed to get arrested in North Eastern Europe. Albania certainly is not the best home for anyone; it's a surprise that Peter managed to remain out there."

Dumbledore nodded slowly looking over all her notes. "You've done more then your share Florence. Were it not for your constant watch, we might not have known that Voldemort was there during the incident with the Basilisk."

"But if I had known about Peter then…" he cut her off with a look.

"No one could have guessed that Peter was still alive, just as no one knows that you are my dear." Dumbledore looked at her gently as he folded his hands. "I have a new mission for you though. One that I hope you are willing to undertake."

She nodded and listened quietly as he spoke, "I need you to help protect someone for a while. No it is not Harry, and neither will I be joining you as before."

Florence gave a quick nod recalling the two times that Dumbledore had come to her after having to leave Hogwarts. She sat back and looked at him as he continued. Her mind whirling, "This wouldn't have anything to do with recent activity regarding the Death Eaters?"

"In a way, it does," he explained and looked over the notes with a serious, yet saddened frown. "Would that all the evil in the world were as black and white as these photos, maybe then innocent people wouldn't be drawn to it."

"But innocent people have to make their own choices." She countered and he smiled.

"Indeed, that is why I'm hoping that the person that I want you to keep safe will willingly take my protection, or will at least wisely use the guide that has been given to him."

"And if they don't?"

Dumbledore sighed, "Then there will be serious consequences. But above all else, no matter what happens, you must keep this person safe, Florence."

"I understand sir," she paused, "Do you suspect Voldemort knows anything about me, or that he suspects I'm alive?"

Dumbledore shook his head, "As you know only a secret keeper can divulge a secret. As I'm sure you've discovered yourself."

She nodded slowly recalling the times when she tried to invite newly acquired friends over for tea, only to have to quickly ask that she meet the friend at their home, or at a public restaurant. Florence shifted some under his gaze and he smiled at her.

"You're still a young woman Florence, I am rather sorry to have put this burden upon you."

"But it's something I willingly took up, and after…" she paused and went quiet for a moment, "After Lily died I knew I would do whatever I could to make sure that her son did what he needed to do. Regardless of my own life, I want what's best for Harry. I want what's best for everyone Professor."

For a second her image in his mind wavered back to the fourteen year old girl who was asking him to allow her to take the punishment for a person she cared for. Dumbledore blinked and Florence was back in place, a woman who had faced many evils that would have frightened even the strongest of wizards. She stared at him with the same exact intense look her counterpart had had moments before.

"I know, Florence, and I am grateful for your help," he smiled again and she saw for the first time the sword on the shelf behind him.

"Sir…is that…"she began to ask and he nodded with a warm twinkle in his eyes.

"Indeed, it is, the sword that I wrote to you about," he pulled it gently off the shelf and allowed her to look at it. Florence had always been one of the few students to look forward to History of Magic, and such artifacts were highly prized by her. She ran her finger over the fine gold handle and grinned.

"This is extraordinary," she breathed. "How in the world was he able to retrieve it?"

Dumbledore chuckled, "He is a true Gryffindor."

She took that as her only answer and nodded. "I see. Well then, exactly what will my task pertain and what exact reason will I have to protect this person?" _And for that matter why has he not told me the name of the person?_ Florence wondered and sat back in her chair.

"As I said it is mostly for the protection of a person whom I believe shall be needing it." He said and she arched an eyebrow.

"They _shall_ need it," she asked and motioned with her hand, "You mean they don't need it quiet yet? But why?"

"Because my dear, the actions that they are about to take, I believe, will cause them to need assistance. I do not know when, or where, they will strike but I do know why."

Florence folded her hands and stared at him trying to figure out the meaning behind it. Her father had once taught her Legilimency, but her skills were always weak, so she never could figure out how to truly use it to her advantage. Rather she'd taken on the habit to disguise her weakness before her father by learning how to read body language. Eyes, hand, face movement that betrayed what a person was saying, even if they felt for certain that they wouldn't be caught in a lie.

"So the person in question is someone that has yet to make a move, but you do know that they will try? This person wouldn't happen to be a student would it Professor? I've been hearing rumors of various children of Death Eaters being rather smug recently."

He nodded, "Indeed, but it would not be my place to mention names to you Florence." Dumbledore leaned forward some towards her, forcing the younger woman to move back. She scowled some, he knew her moves all too well, and it was irritating at times. "However, do know that I have someone watching him, and that should be sufficient for now. This guide, should plans go as I think they might, will bring you this person, possibly when you least suspect it."

"Then this person, or the guide, know where I live?" she asked, and he shook his head. She frowned. "Then how…?"

"I will inform the guide when the time comes. For now let us say that they will know where to take the person in question. There is one other minor detail, this person may not be willing to stay with you, and so you will have to be firm with them."

She nodded, "Firm. Right. So it is a child then."

He smiled some sadly, "I wish that was the case. His childhood was left behind the moment he made his deal. I fear that he has gotten into more then he can handle, but in some ways it has placed the right people in the right positions for bring down Voldemort."

Florence shuddered at the name but gave a nod, "If he…Voldemort…is involved in this, do I assume that I might be taking a Death Eater into my home?"

"Indeed you may," Dumbledore told her and she gripped the chair.

"Sir do you know how dangerous that is…if the person does…"

"He can not tell where your home is Florence, it is unplottable as well," Dumbledore pointed out readily and she sighed. He was ready with an answer to her every excuse and she knew it. Florence nodded her head slowly.

"So then, can I ask what exactly happened to call me back from the East?"

"An unbreakable vow," he said softly and she blinked.

"An…who would ever take such a thing? It's suicidal."

"Indeed it can be, if unfulfilled. That is where you come in. The person that has made the vow agreed to two tasks, the first of which I believe only he can commit, the second…that is where your assistance will come in. But only if you're willing to do it Florence."

"I suppose the person that took the vow offered protection to the person that I am to safe guard?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Dumbledore said and gave her a gentle look. She caught it and rubbed her eyes.

"It's late, Professor. I promise I will do all that I can to help, and I'll take on the mission, for the Order. However," she stood up and pushed her bangs from her eyes. "I request that if things get out of hand, I have the option of removing the person I'm guarding from the country."

He nodded slowly, "If you feel that is for the best then use your judgment."

Florence gave him a grateful look as the Professor stood and showed her to her door. "I assume you'll be sleeping in one of the inns in Hogsmeade?"

She nodded her head, "If it's alright by you, sir, may I use one of the Ravenclaw dorm rooms. I promise I shall not cause any troubles. Just for tonight at least?"

Dumbledore gave a nod, "I will certainly inform Mr. Filch of it, the password is Treacle Tart."

"Is that for the year?" she asked and he shook his head.

"Just for the summer." He assured her and she nodded. Saying her good bye, Florence headed down the stairs to the door and made a right. Taking the stairs she arrived at the Ravenclaw tower and found the portrait of a scholarly looking gentleman reading a book. He looked up at her with languid eyes.

"Password?"

"Treacle Tart." Florence stated and walked in. The common room was silent, though a fire was lit, and clearly the house-elfs had been cleaning. She sat down on a blue couch and pulled a book from her bag. Settling in her mind raced around recalling old memories of the school, and wondering exactly her mission would cost her in the end.


End file.
